


let it unfold

by meowrails



Series: we're going to start again [2]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Doctor Strange (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, Magic, Marriage, Marriage of Convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 07:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10635168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowrails/pseuds/meowrails
Summary: In order to bring back magic to the multiverse, Stephen and Wong preform an ancient spell back in Kamar-Taj.Stephen will do anything to project magic, even if it means having to marry his best friend.Takes place solely in the 616 comic verse. Only tagged as the film tag so more people can see.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> can be read on its own, but i recommend reading the first fic in the series for emotional context. also, this is supposed to take place during the doctor strange (2015) comic run, after wong is released from misery's clutches.
> 
> warnings: very brief mentions of blood drinking, some morally-grey thoughts on stephen's end
> 
> title based on [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bby0mdd8Izo) song (unfold by the xx)
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated!

Out of all the things he should be considering at the moment, out of all the doubts that plagued his mind because of this rushed ordeal, the first thing that crossed Stephen’s mind when they arrived at Kamar-Taj was that he didn’t realize that Wong was still so popular among the remaining monks and students.

Kamar-Taj had always been a small place, there were people who never left and still dedicated their lives to teaching any desperate passersby about the mystic arts, or were still there to protect the artifacts and temple that The Ancient One, and the Sorcerer Supremes before him, had worked so hard to create. It was Wong’s home, where he grew up with Hamir and would eventually be trained to live along his side. No doubt he had friends, or at the very least former buddies from back when he was the rowdiest and most trouble-making of the students in the compound. Hell, it wasn’t until recently that he learned that Wong sent letters to Kamar-Taj constantly, and visited on his spare time. 

He’d never expected to get married here, much less to have his former master officiate his wedding.

The Ancient One had been smug about it all, of course, his transparent form hovering over them with a warm smile on his face and telling the two that he’d picked Hamir’s bloodline for this very foretold moment. Stephen wasn’t sure if it was entirely true, but he took the man’s congratulations in kindness, glancing beside him as Wong talked animatedly with his father. At his request, Hamir made the two separate until the ceremony began, a group of students and monks running behind Wong to prepare him. The Sorcerer Supreme, on the other hand, wished to get ready alone. 

The Ancient One gave him a pointed glance after Wong left. Just like that, he knew the man could see through his lies. The man’s transparent, floating form vanished shortly after without another word.

Stephen was in his former bedroom, which had been dutifully decorated by the monks with floating candles and traditional flowers. It was gorgeous, he had to admit, but he’d be lying if he didn’t feel out of place standing in the middle of it. He was wearing a tuxedo, one he hadn’t worn in years, not even for his union with Clea.

The Sorcerer shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He cannot think of her, he would not think of her. Or else, he would do something idiotic and blurt out her name in in their wedding. Only it wouldn’t be funny or sitcom worthy, it would just be cruel.

The monks and students had offered to fit him with a traditional Tibetan wedding outfit; Stephen politely refused. It didn’t feel right, he’d only been a student for a couple of years and, while he will always be forever grateful for Kamar-Taj taking him in and helping him so many years ago, and he knew the language fluently, he was still American through and through -- and didn’t want to end up making a fool of himself by putting it backwards or something.

The ceremony would be mostly nontraditional, following the regular western wedding rules that Stephen was more familiar with along with the  _ actual _ reason they were doing this in the first place, but Wong still said he would like to wear the clothes he grew up with. He wasn’t entirely sure what the outfit would look like but he was sure Wong would look wonderful and colorful. Wong had asked him if he wanted to invite his hero friends, such as the Avengers and others, but in the end, he was never that close with any of them save for a small handful. None of them understood what Wong meant to him, none of them would actually care. The two decided it would be a private affair, just the two of them, in the courtyard where they would train for hours on end. It was sentimental, just romantic enough. Wong was just glad he wouldn’t have to deal with trying to organize a large ceremony in the Sanctum. 

Vishanti, help him -- He was so happy, even if they were just marrying for a fucking spell. Stephen held his face in his hands, the gold on his wedding ring cold against his skin. 

Not a day had passed since the proposal that he wished he could have done it differently.

He’d been up reading, avoiding sleep in any way possible as per usual, when he’d come across a spell that could possibly bring back some inkling of magical energy back into the cosmos. It was complex and convoluted, but it had been devised by a student of Agamotto himself. The ritual must be done by a sorcerer of immense power and someone who they shared an incredibly strong bond with on an important day. Love was the most powerful magic,  _ yadda yadda yadda _ . It made Stephen sneer, almost throw the book across the room in anger and shame. He was furious, at the multiverse’s undying need for irony. And he was scared of his own cruelty.

An hour passed as he debated the idea in his head -- it should have been days.

He ran to his room to look through his old jewelry. 

Wong had been in the kitchen when he did it, helping himself to a cup of tea and a quiet time by himself. He didn’t notice Stephen at first, he looked serene and peaceful, tired even. It felt cruel to toy with him like this, after their night together weeks ago, after the rest of the nights they shared together and the days they would share in mutual silence on the subject. 

But Stephen had promised himself to protect magic by any means necessary, even if it meant using his best friend’s heart.

He explained the spell first. Wong listened in silence, hands gripping his mug as he understood what Stephen was trying to tell him. He remembered having his hand on Wong’s back, trying to sooth himself more than anything else. His explanation had been followed by the sort of silence that made his bones crawl and his throat feel tight.

It didn’t stop him from getting on one knee, holding up the a simple gold ring on one hand while still wearing his old wedding band on the other. He hadn’t noticed at the time, but he has no doubt Wong did. 

How the man agreed is a mystery to him. His voice had sounded so strained, his voice constricted so much that he could only usher a simple ‘ _ yes _ ’. 

They kissed -- it felt like an apology.

With pathetic, trembling hands, Stephen managed to place the ring on Wong’s finger. His friend -- fiancé -- gazed at it for a second, face just as serene as it was when he was drinking tea, and pressed his lips against his own again. 

Stephen wished he would cry, or scream, of hit him. He wished the man would cover him in bruises because of it. Wong is too gentle with him, too kind -- perhaps too much for his own good.

He wondered whether Wong had a unrealistic and idealistic view of his Sorcerer Supreme or if he was really that hopeful. Stephen had to force himself to be like that, at times, reminding himself that the cosmos, while unforgiving, are still beautiful and that people could still be kind -- just not to him. 

And yet, as decades passed, Wong was still the only one there. He would always come back, even if Stephen couldn’t see it.

He hoped he sank into the floorboards. How had he gone so long without realizing this? 

They went to his bedroom and fucked. Or rather, Wong fucked him. Stephen allowed him to do anything he wanted, even going  as far as asking for second and third round. He didn’t want them, he just wanted to rest, but Wong wanted him so much. So much, that he kissed every part of the sorcerer. It felt like undeserved worship -- a prophet adoring a false god. So much, that he felt his chest ache, he felt himself crying because of it. He thought he’d been drained of tears -- Wong was always full of surprises. 

The night became turned into a haze of pleasure and emotion, Stephen couldn’t remember the exact details of what happened. But there’s one memory that hasn’t left his mind for days. Each time it comes into his mind, it felt like a punch. Perhaps it was also the sort of punch the Ancient One would tell him about.

_ “I know you love tragedies,”  _ Wong had said, the two of them still gasping for air. “ _ If you ever fall in love with me, do not expect me to become one.” _

Stephen was trying to love him, so desperately. He was tired of living without love, without it blooming in his chest when Wong smiled and praised him, confessing his love once more in hopes of a similar answer. Stephen would answer with silence, until the soft and confusing glow in his stomach would turn hard and cold. He would always be ready to reply with a joke, something vague that would trot the lines between  _ yes  _ and  _ no _ . Half of the time, Wong would laugh. Other times, he would excuse himself and walk away.

(If he did, their bond would be stronger, and the spell would be stronger.) 

For now, he could lie. Well, as much as one could around Wong. He could do his best to make Wong happy, allow him to do anything.  _ Anything _ . It was the least he could do.

And now Stephen was actually getting married again, just a month after their first romantic encounter. He sat on the makeshift bed that had been styled for them on the floor, made of scattered pelts and furs, decorated with flower petals. 

He was a romantic at heart, he’d always been. Why did the sight of it all made him sick to his stomach?

Stephen adjusted his tux, forced to have to put on his cuff-links himself, too proud to ask any of the Masters nearby his room for help. He failed, obviously, and chucked the metal pair across the room.

They clinked on the floor next to him. They were old, the pair he would use to go to galas and medical conferences decades ago. Perhaps it was best not to relive those memories either. It was his wedding day, after all.

There was a knock on his door, probably Hamir urging him to hurry up. He adjusted his bow-tie and his jacket. The door opened before he could answer it and a rush of cold wind and light snow went through the room. It was Wong, of all people.

He was dressed in a simple yet traditional Tibetan wedding wear. Clearly done in a rush, yet still fitting and gorgeous. The fabric was a deep red, along with golden and yellow details. It reminded him of his old cloak. He was wearing a hat made out of fur, but he quickly took it off, shaking the bit of snow that had fallen on it so it would fall to the floor. 

He’d never seen Wong in this sort of clothes before. The candles that hovered around him made the gold on the fabric glow, his olive skin looking as if it was radiating sunlight into the room. So often with Stephen feel like a void, a black hole -- he hoped he didn’t suck the light out of him. Not to mention that he was wearing a completely black tux as well, it felt so dull compared to his fiancé’s appearance. 

It wasn’t until recently that he’d realized how beautiful the other man could be.

Stephen stood closer to him. Wong smiled up in return. “You know it’s bad luck for us to see each other right now, right?”

“You don’t need luck, you have me.” Wong responded playfully. It made him bite his lip.

Wong continued. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Are you nervous?”

Stephen wasn’t going to admit that. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Wong hummed in thought. “It will be a simple ceremony, we don’t even have a reception. We won’t even have to recite vows, you have nothing to worry about.”

The Sorcerer Supreme felt so tired, so defeated and confused. He looked down at his fiancé, his friend, and kissed his temple before resting his forehead against the other man’s. Just like they would do after their sparring. It became their own special language, Stephen’s own way of saying the words he couldn't actually bring himself to say. Wong closed his eyes, a curve of his lips still on his face. They turned to each other until they were hugging; Stephen’s hands ached and shook more than usual.

He felt Wong shuffle against him and noticed that he was being handed something. It was a pair of gloves. “You left these at the Sanctum. Wear them, it will be cold and your hands will ache.”

It was his old pair of yellow gloves, he’d thought he’d lost them. “Thank you.”

_ He loves you so much. He loves you so much. He loves you so much. _

Wong helped him put them on, fingers then interlacing each other. “It’s no need.”

Stephen stammered. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

Wong blinked, paused, then nodded. His face was unreadable; once again did Stephen wished he would look angry or devastated. Not out of cruelty, but for his own validation. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Stephen.” Wong rested a hand on his dear friend’s face. The American shook his head.

“You deserve better.” 

Wong placed his hands on either side of his face, holding him closer. “You have peered into other realities and timelines, have you not? In every one of them, you are my constant. I am there with you. It is what made me go back to you every time, and you are what makes me stay.”

Stephen whimpered, “you said we didn’t need to prepare vows.”

Wong couldn’t help but scoff out a laugh. Then paused, silence between them once more. Stephen ran his thumb over Wong’s full, bottom lip. “Can I kiss you?”

He hasn’t said anything like that since high-school. Wong didn’t answer; he parted his lips and had a knowing smile on his face, waiting for it.

Stephen did. It wasn’t desperate, wasn’t rushed, wasn’t used to prove a point. For once, it was just a kiss. Lips colliding with gentle force, his beard scratching Wong’s softer skin. The man pulled away, claiming that he didn’t want his mouth to get noticeably red. He ran his thumb over the corner of the sorcerer’s lips, then adjusted his bowtie for him. Wong stopped for a moment to admire his outfit, it felt so weird for the two of them to see each other dressed so nicely. Wong licked his lips and called him handsome.

Stephen liked it.

Wong adjusted his clothing back to how it should be, trying to hide any evidence of their meeting. “I cannot say for certain what our future holds, but if marrying you at least brought balance to the cosmos once more, I can be happy with that.” 

He kissed him again, not caring if he ended up ruining both of their outfits. “I’m gonna try, I want to be good to you. I promise I’ll try for you.”

Wong sighed. “That’s all I ask for.”

Stephen was two seconds from pushing the man against the wall and getting on his knees just to prove himself, but cacophonous bells began to ring throughout their side of the mountain. It was time.

Wong left first, adjusting the fabric that was draped over his shoulders and picking up his hat, then made his way to the main courtyard. He checked his pocket, making sure he had his ring, and walked out a minute after, trying to pretend that the two of them hadn’t left from the same room.

The small amount of magic left in Kamar-Taj was being used to keep the area a few degrees warmer than usual. It felt more like New York City in normal winter day rather than the Himalayas. A cloud of air left his lips as he sighed. He hoped this worked, all of them did -- desperately. He wanted enough magic to melt the entire mountain.

He heard the Ancient One’s voice ring in his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was a memory, or the man calling out to him. 

_ ‘There is no point in stalling, my son.’ _

He made his way towards the courtyard, a blooming feeling in his chest that made his heart race. He dismissed it as anxiety, but it felt stronger. It almost felt like magic.

 

\---

 

Surprisingly enough, the wedding had gone without a hitch. 

The courtyard was empty, decorated by scattered petals and colored powder that Stephen really hoped wasn’t thrown at him later on. The dead silence, and the fact that The Ancient One hovered beside him with his eyes clothes as they waited for Wong to walk to them was eerie enough for him to wish that someone played piano in the background, or an organ. He remembered seeing those in weddings as a kid in his local church, bored out of his mind.

This time, all he felt was a sense of anxiousness that he wasn’t used to. He was the Sorcerer Supreme, he didn’t get anxious about these sort of things. Then there was the beating in his heart, the warmth in his chest that felt like something more. Like something he’d forgotten the word for.

When Wong walked toward him, the first thing he noticed was that The Ancient One had a smug look on his face directed at him. Stephen widened his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Wong stood beside him, his cheeks were blushing from the cold and someone had put red eyeliner on him. He almost looked regal, standing up straight to the Ancient One right after bowing in respect. Stephen did the same, not taking his eyes off his fiancé. Wong looked straight ahead, but Stephen could notice the slight curve on his lips. 

The Ancient One spoke, telling them of sacred bonds in forgotten languages, of the duties of the Sorcerer Supreme, or how the energy shared between two souls who loved each other might just be the strongest magic of all. Which was why they must join in the foretold union, and how their love would bring back some sort of balance to the multiverse.

They were blessed, over and over again. A long time ago, Stephen remembered cutting his hand with Wong’s and drinking blood mixed with goat milk -- they thought they would be blood brothers forever.

How ironic.

The ceremony went on for longer than most weddings would, as they were combining a wedding with a spell, a ritual that had so many steps even Stephen had to write some down. He can’t even remember the amount of herbal tea the two of them drank during the preparation, all the candles lit and the incantations brought in a dozen of different languages. After his speech, The Ancient One silently oversaw the entire process. 

Stephen and Wong were drawing runes on the ground with blessed ash. At one moment, the pair stopped to watch the sunset, blue sky turning darker with every seconds. Wong turned to him when he wasn’t looking and decorated his forehead with a dot of black ash and laughed. Stephen felt a weight leave his shoulders and did the same. 

The two continued and noticed the candles lit around them burned purple while the rest of the of mountainside turned pitch black. 

Wong stood up alongside him and asked Stephen what they needed to do next. 

The Sorcerer Supreme looked up at the stars for a moment, hoping that the Vishanti looked at him at this moment -- hoping they were still somewhere in the multiverse watching over him. That they still believed in him and, just this once, things would go his way.

The took Wong’s face in his trembling hands and kissed him. The violet fire surrounding them fell to the ground and decorated the runes, until it consumed them. It did not sting or hurt, but Stephen’s throat felt constricted.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. 

Different planes of himself escaped his body and multiplied, exploding one by one like fireworks, light and stardust filling the Tibetan sky for a brief moment before being engulfed in the night sky once more. The fire died down, the candles were upright again, and burning red.

The world felt as if shifted. It worked.

Stephen and Wong pulled apart and fell to the ground, gasping for air and now covered in ash. The spell had only taken a few seconds to go into full effect, but it felt like years. Time and space toyed with them, rearranging itself until it was filled with magic once more. Stephen could actually feel it in his bones, in his teeth, like a cherished memory he’d somehow repressed. 

Beside him, Wong was coughing, his hat fell to the ground. But he had a smile on his face, cheeks still blushing and red. He felt it too.

From inside the Kamar-Taj walls, he could hear cheering and music, calls of joy celebrating the faster return of magic, even if it was still an inkling of what it usually was. Beforehand, they had theorized that it would take years for magic to pull back into the universe to it’s normal state. Hopefully, it would now take only a few months. Stephen allowed himself to huff proudly at the praise.

The Ancient One hovered over them, this time his smile wasn’t smug but instead kind, radiant. “Good job, my sons. I must say, I had my doubts on whether or not that would work.”

Stephen stood up and conjured a Shield of Seraphim.  _ It worked. It worked. It worked. _

He composed himself, “It’s not strong as it should be, but it’s just enough to conjure basic spells so it seems.”

The Ancient One hummed. “Even if it is not as powerful as before, it will take time for magic to cross the multiverse and adjust to the cosmos once more. No doubt will you face forces trying to stop it, or using advantage of the power very soon.”

Wong got up and leaned beside him, still breathing heavily but like his usual self once more. 

There was a pregnant pause before The Ancient One continued. “But it is your wedding night, and you have worked tirelessly to accomplish this. I believe the two of you deserve some privacy.”

Stephen cleared his throat. “That would be nice. Thank you, Ancient One.”

The Ancient One gave them a wink, it felt as embarrassing as having any parent acknowledging their child’s sex life, then vanished. A strong gush of wind flew at their direction, almost making them stumble back, and then they were alone.

Wong sniffed, suddenly feeling colder than before. “Should we head to our room?”

The Sorcerer blushed at the implication, knowing fully well what would happen next. “Wait, there’s something I haven’t done yet.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow that grew even stronger when Stephen showed Wong his own ring finger. With the small amount of magic they had at the moment, a gold band appeared on the hilt of his scarred finger. He breathed out a whispered phrase in a language not of this realm and it disappeared.

Wong did say anything -- he didn’t smile or frown. But he did take his hand in his own, threading their fingers together. 

The old, Faltian ring was replaced by a real one, made of gold and matter that Wong helped him put on. The weight on his hands felt odd, it would take some time getting used to wearing this.

It was perfect.

“All right, now I’m ready.” Stephen said, offering out a hand for his husband.

As always, for what they hoped would be the rest of their lives, Wong took it and followed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings i can think of for this one.
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it. please consider leaving a comment or kudos!
> 
> i did a BUNCH of drawings while writing this fic, check them out here:
> 
>  
> 
> [x](https://twitter.com/shitlockposting/status/848416686206267393)
> 
>  
> 
> [x](https://twitter.com/shitlockposting/status/851908924001398790)
> 
>  
> 
> [x](https://twitter.com/shitlockposting/status/852300047412867072)

The room was filled with even more candles, and flowers. Someone had lit the fireplace for them, and there seemed to be more fur pelts for them to lay on than before. One of the students even brought water and food for them. 

To be fair, as tired as he was right now, Stephen didn’t really feel like sleeping in the slightest

They were standing near the door, admiring the sight before them, not entirely sure of what they should do now.

Stephen eyed the plate of curry on the table. 

“Do you think you can eat it now?” Wong asked. 

He tried a bite of it, the smallest one possible, but it still turned into ash the instant it touched his tongue. He spat it out to the side instantly and grimaced. 

“I’m... sorry.”

“It’s fine, feels weird not to eat your gut and eyeball stir fry at this point.” 

Wong gave him a pointed look, but didn’t look offended in the slightest. “We have magic again, properly, we can figure out a cure together. “

“I want to eat pizza again, with you. Think you can make a intestine pizza?” 

“Perhaps, my culinary talents know no limits.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you found thousands of ways of almost killing me in my first year in this mountain alone.”

“Then I moved to New York with you and it ruined my winning streak.”

“Of almost killing me?”

“I thought I was going to die here, in Kamar-Taj, I had to have  _ some  _ form of entertainment.” Wong huffed before he pulled him down on their makeshift fur pelt bed. Stephen was looking on top of him. He was tempted to see if he could use their newfound magic to rip off Wong’s clothes, but it looked so nice on him. He was torn.

“I remember back when you wouldn’t wear shoes. Ever.”

Wong rolled his eyes. “You are one to talk, you only ever wear tights with either no shoes or the most ridiculous boots.”

“Hey, I bought sneakers and yoga pants. I’m a new man now.”

“I miss the tights, actually. You have very nice legs.”

He was pretty sure that Wong was holding him by either thigh. Stephen smirked,  _ finally.  _ He was eager to get to the main event of the night.

Stephen straddled Wong’s hips and loosened his bowtie. “You want me to ride you? I’ll take your cock so well, and have you be the only one to get to see the Sorcerer Supreme like this.” 

Wong gulped. 

He heard the man shuffle beneath him, almost nervously. He clearly wanted to say something else. 

Stephen moved until they were facing each other, just inches apart; he was enjoying the dreamy look on his husband’s usually stoic face. The sort of expression the man only ever used around him. For him. 

Wong was now his  _ husband _ . Decades ago, he wouldn’t have believed the guy who seemingly hated him so much when he was just a student at Kamar-Taj would be leaning against his chest in a tight hug.

“You know, you’re allowed to hug me and kiss me anytime you want now.” Stephen sighed.  “You can do anything you want to me.”

“Stephen,” He asked, pursing his lips together. “I--” 

He pressed a kiss to the man’s temple. He blamed the floating candles and rose petals that surrounded them that were making him sappy.

“What do you want me to do?” He whispered. Wong paused.

“Get up and turn around, facing the wall, please. I... There is something I want to try.”

His voice sounded so polite and soft it was almost criminal. Stephen did as told and decided to take the time to remove his tuxedo. Now that he had some magic at his side again, the buttons on his shirt weren’t as bad a problem as before. He managed to take off his jacket, waistcoat and unbutton his pressed, white dress shirt before Wong spoke up again. 

“Turn around.”

Stephen turned to face him and immediately felt blood rush to his cheeks.

Wong was sitting on top of the fur pelts, legs crossed and bare. Actually, the man had taken off all of his clothes except the fabric that had draped his outfit before, deep red and decorated with gold. It looked like the kasaya robes monks wear, except it fell from his shoulder and was made of the thinnest fabric possible. He could see the man’s thin and built frame seemingly glow in the candlelight that surrounded him. Wong’s eyes, still adorned with sharp, red ink, were half lidded and looking right at him. 

“Come to bed,” He beckoned, voice like honey.

Stephen nodded dumbly and struggled to take off some of the rest of his clothes, leaving him with just his white shirt and underwear, which he had to remind himself to use. Wong raised his eyebrows, “It seems we have exchanged places.”

He let out a noise that he hoped sounded close to a ‘ _ what _ ?’, still too busy staring and thinking about how gorgeous his husband was.

The man teased him and moved the fabric between his legs momentarily before covering it up again moments later. He was naked, he’d been wearing nothing underneath his traditional wear during the entire day. 

Stephen felt his breath hitch.

“I want you to take me tonight.” Wong breathed against his lips.

“Have you ever... has anyone fucked you before?”

His husband shook his head. “No. I want you to be the first to do this. Only you.”

Stephen gulped and a felt Wong’s hand against his chest. Fingers trailed down from the hair on his chest to his abdomen, then rested on the elastic of his underwear. The man but his bottom lip and tugged, not quite revealing him yet. 

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He kissed him, desperately -- open mouthed and tongues exploring, while Stephen rid himself of his briefs and threw it to the side. He moved his lips lower, down to Wong’s neck, and sucked. It left a red mark on his olive skin, Wong gasped at the feeling.

He wanted to touch all of him, make sure that Wong felt loved, even if he wasn’t sure what  _ he  _ felt, he could give the man this.

He spoke to the crook of Wong’s neck, making sure to keep their hips separate no matter how much Wong bucked his hips. “Did they, uh, give us any lube?”

His husband groaned. “Ah, on the table.”

Stephen took it and held it aside for now, he had other plans. He pressed a kiss to Wong’s chest, hairless yet scarred, and a tongue to his nipple. He saw the man close his eyes, breathing heavily, a tinge of red still adorning his cheeks. Stephen pushed aside the fabric that Wong wore until his chest was bare and sucked on his other nipple. That earned him a soft, shocked whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.

“You liked that, huh?” Stephen teased then pressed another kiss to Wong’s chest. 

Wong shifted beneath him. “Yes. Do it again.” 

“I thought I was in charge tonight.” He toyed with Wong’s nipple instead. His scarred thumb pressed against the hard, dark nub. Wong’s eyes were still close and his lips were still parted.

“ _ Sorry.”  _ Wong breathed, slipping into his native tongue. Stephen tutted.

“No, it’s fine. I like it when you’re bossy anyway. You’re doing wonderfully.” He kissed Wong’s shoulder this time and shuffled back to see all of him. Wong, flushed and breathy against a bed of pelts. Stephen had to reach down and palm himself at the sight, at least for a moment, though he could happily stare at it for ages.

Wong pushed the rest of the fabric aside until he was completely naked, his hard cock resting against his navel. Stephen was tempted to bend down and suck him off, have Wong cum down his throat, but he promised the man something else entirely, and Stephen would be damned if he didn’t get inside him as soon as possible.

He stopped touching Wong, which earned him a hushed groan, and lathered his fingers with lubricant -- his fingers were too weak to properly finger Wong, he’d have to use something else later.

Wong noticed what he was doing and spread his legs, his hands now hugging his chest. “Please...”

Stephen shushed him gently and pressed a finger to his entrance, heart already throbbing madly at the thought of how tight it would be. “Shh, this will take a bit. Gotta make you loose for me.” 

Wong’s eyes darted between Stephen’s legs and he bit his lip. “I can happily wait for that.” 

He wasn’t  _ huge _ , but he was slightly larger than average and larger than Wong. But his husband was staring at the outline of his cock straining against pink cotton with hungry eyes.

Vishanti, help him. 

He pressed a single finger to Wong’s entrance. He heard him gasp, and whimper, clenching around Stephen’s finger at the unfamiliar feeling. Stephen moved slowly, one hand on his husband’s hips to keep him steady. Wong’s now plumper and reddened lips went to an  _ o _ shape. 

That’s it, he liked it.

Stephen went knuckle deep inside Wong and his eyes fluttered shut. During this haze of new found pleasure, Stephen pushed another finger. The soft gasp the man made as his hips bucked and his back arched was music to his ears. 

Wong wrapped an arm around Stephen’s neck, the other covering his mouth as he was scissored open. It hurt, just a bit, but he was too focused on the small sounds Wong made every time he moved. He originally thought about teasing the man until he was wanted and begging, knees trembling with desire. But Wong had waited enough for this. He liked being gentle like this, taking his time to pull his lover apart bit by bit, coaxing him. He angled his finger and allowed it to graze Wong’s prostate the instant he started to hear the man’s noises die down. His husband moaned, wanting and helpless at Stephen’s touch, hips moving forward and asking for more. 

He leaned down close to Wong’s ear. “Are you sure this is really your first time? You must’ve been popular here, helper to the Sorcerer Supreme, all pretty and causing trouble all the time.” He chuckled when Wong let out a louder, muffled whine -- he probably wasn’t expecting Stephen to speak like this. “That’s it, I wanna hear you. Don’t be shy.” 

It took a few seconds until Wong finally obliged and removed the hand that was covering his lips. Not shortly after, Stephen moved  _ only _ against his prostate just to hear Wong pant and whimper. “D-Doctor...” He bit his lip again, looking absolutely delectable. Stephen kissed his open, pliant mouth. “ _ Doctor Strange _ .” 

Stephen  _ really  _ liked the sound of that.

He pulled out, making Wong groaned at the loss of it and coated his fingers with more lubricant. He pressed three fingers to his hole this time and Wong noticed, he was looking down at himself, his hands grasping Stephen by his arm, and panting harder than before. He was wide-eyed at the feeling he’s definitely never been this full before. Stephen felt his cock twitch at the sight.

Wong began to move and fucked himself on his fingers. He hissed at the slight pain, but the sight alone was worth it. The man’s strong thighs tensed as he moved. If it wasn’t for Wong’s plea earlier, he would be content with just watching his husband like this. Watch him lose his usual composure and self-control, all stoicism lost and replaced by desperate need. His usual quiet self continued make the smallest noises, soft whimpers that were driving him mad. Stephen held Wong by his shoulder and scissored him open, desperate to fuck him. 

“I-” Wong gasped.  “Oh, S-Stephen, I’m close.”

He pulled out his fingers, his hands resting on Wong’s ass, squeezing gently while his husband tried to regain his breath. His cock was weeping on his stomach, clear fluid that Stephen was tempted to lick clean. He did, pressing a single kiss to the head of Wong’s cock.

“How do you want to do this?” Stephen asked. 

Wong’s eyes fluttered open, cheeks still red and burning. “You may do whatever you like to me but I only have one request --” his hand made it’s way to the elastic in Stephen’s briefs and  _ tugged _ . “I want to look at your face.”

_ Oh fuck _ . “Yeah, yeah of course. Lie back.” Stephen was sweating, he hasn’t felt this hard in ages, not even when Wong fucked him. The smaller man did as told and wrapped his legs around his waist, an inkling of a smile on his face as he watched him fumble to get his underwear completely off. 

Wong seemed well aware of what his words did to him. He spoke up again, his voice smooth as silk and more accented than usual. He spreads his legs before him like a blooming flower, and Stephen let’s out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Please, use me thoroughly.”

Stephen had to control himself and lean back, or else he was going to shove his cock inside the smaller man and cum inside him without a second thought.  _ Vishanti, help him _ \-- Wong knew his weaknesses all too well. 

He held his cock and pressed it against Wong’s entrance. His husband was laying on the fur pelts beneath him, still smiling, and looking up at him with parted lips. The red eyeliner was slightly smudged, his skin illuminated by candlelight and the crackling fireplace behind them.

Stephen held him by his thighs. “Ready for more?”

Wong licked his lips. “Yes, please.”

“There’s no need for formalities right now, my dear.”

He heard his husband sigh dreamily at his last words. “But you like it.”

Stephen chuckled. “Feel free to continue talking like that, then.” 

_ Finally _ , he pushed into Wong with one slick movement, until he was buried completely inside his tight heat. The two of them groaned at the feeling; Stephen did so because he  _ finally _ got some friction to his cock, and Wong groaned louder, seeing as it was his first time ever having something so big breach him

Stephen allowed himself a smug smile at the thought. 

Wong trembled beneath him, clenching and unclenching on his cock in a way that made Stephen groan again. “Hey, you alright?”

His husband closed his eyes. “It feels... like so much. Give me a moment.”

To be honest, Stephen could happily spend the entire night watching Wong struggle to act all disciplined when he was full of seven inches of cock. Well, seven and a half. Maybe.

“Oh, Stephen... Move. Just move -- fuck me.” 

He happily did just that. Stephen spread Wong’s legs further apart and thrusted into him, in quick and ragged movements, trying to find the man’s prostate again. He looked down to see that Wong’s eyes had darted to stare down as Stephen continued to pound him into the mattress. Each thrust was met with a small whimper or gasp -- he wanted to memorize this forever. He wanted to be Wong’s first in everything else. 

He forced himself to slow down and tried to look for Wong’s sweet spot again, he wanted to make him enjoy this as much as he did. Stephen loved sex, he loved seeing his partners go mad with pleasure -- though the man beneath him didn’t seem to mind. He was staring up at him with hazy, lust filled eyes, shallow gasps every time Stephen almost managed to fuck his prostate. He looked like he wanted a kiss; Stephen leaned down and gave him one. 

Their kiss was interrupted the instant Stephen thrusted into his sweet spot. Wong pulled apart and arched his back, almost sobbing. He heard some words in mandarin that took him a moment to understand that Wong was begging for him. “ _ Doctor. Oh, Doctor. Harder, p-please.” _

He practically growled, colliding his lips with his husband’s plump and red ones, enjoying the feeling of having Wong moan into his mouth. Wong turned his face to the side, his eyes rolling back at the continuous pleasure of his cock hitting his most sensitive spot. He felt the man’s arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close. “Sp-speak to me. I want to hear you too.”

_ Fuck. _ He didn’t know what to say right now, he was too distracted by Wong’s tight heat. Stephen bit his lip and felt Wong’s legs wrap around his waist. The man wanted them close, chest to chest, his cock continued to graze against his stomach, making Wong pant even harder. Stephen pressed his lips to his cheek. “You look beautiful like this.”

Wong moaned into the fur pelts beneath them. He continued, “Wong--- Fuck. You take me so well.”

The sounds that escaped the man were louder than before, a steady stream of continuous whimpers and soft gasps that Stephen could happily drown in. It seemed as it all the ones beforehand had been Wong trying to restrain himself, but now he was completely out of self-control; scattered words in mandarin slipped from his lips. Stephen was too distracted to translate them in his mind, but he knew that he was begging. “No wonder you wanted this so much,” he gasped. “You’re so fucking tight. Made for taking all of me.”

Wong was just a few thrusts away from finishing. He wished he could stroke his cock, he could feel it pulsing against his stomach, but he knew it would hurt his hands too much. He leaned back and reached for one of Wong’s hands and guided it to his cock. “That’s it, my dear. I want to see you finish.” 

His husband nodded, bobbing his head in frantic motions before throwing it back as he stroked himself. Stephen wondered how many nights of Wong’s life were spent doing this, alone, desperately trying to stay quiet and keep his feelings at bay. Stephen moved deep inside him in ragged thrusts, feeling himself near to completion too. But he wasn’t going to cum now, not until he saw Wong crumble beneath him. 

It didn’t take long for Wong to crest, his hands clinging around Stephen’s back and digging his fingernails into pale flesh. He sobs Stephen’s name as he jerked his hips up, finishing onto his chest and stomach. Stephen stopped to watch him sag on the fur and pant, gritting his teeth while he gives Wong a chance to breathe.

After a few drawn-out moments, he continued to move into Wong’s oversensitive body. It made the poor man let out a surprised whimper at first, but then he was just staring up at him. His sharp eyeliner now completely smudged, eyes half-open and watching him intently. Stephen groaned, just near the edge but it wasn’t not enough to get him to cum. 

Wong breathed out, knowing him all too well. “ _ Doctor Strange _ ...”

He pressed his head to Wong’s chest, hands holding on to either side of his smaller frame, fucking into him like a dog in heat. A broken  _ fuck _ escaped his lips. Wong spoke up again. “Doctor, please. Finish inside me. I want to feel you, all of you. Make me yours.”

He knew his words were for show, there was a smug tone in Wong’s breathless voice as he spoke, but it did its job. He came with a strangled groan, all inside his husband’s tight hole as promised. Part of him wanted to stay like this for hours, but it was their wedding night. They could move into more disgusting and uncanny things on their next time.

Stephen pulled out and the two of them gasped. Cum dripped from Wong’s hole and there was still cum on his chest. He looked utterly debauched, red cheeks and face sheen with sweat. Both of them knew that, with their newfound magic, they could get rid of it all in an instant -- Stephen savored in the sight, his hand resting on Wong’s face, thumb stroking his cheekbone. 

“Did I meet your standards? Fulfill any fantasies?” Stephen rested beside Wong. 

His husband chuckled between trying to regain his breath. “Almost all of them. Though none of them involved me wearing this.” He held up his hand to show his wedding ring. Stephen took his hand in his own and kissed the gold, his knuckles and his palm. 

“None of us saw this happening, my dear.”

With a snap of his fingers, they were clean again. Well, rid of any cum and sweat, really. Stephen hoped they could bathe together soon, he doesn’t doubt that the students and monks would happily oblige to preparing them a private bath. For now, he snuggled against Wong, his head resting on his chest. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed being held this way. And now he could have it every night, if he desired. 

It felt like a dream; he hoped it wasn’t short lived. Though, from the way stroked his hair and kissed his temple, he had hoped that this could last. That it could work.

He hadn’t expected Wong to be so tender and romantic. Perhaps he’d been hiding it inside all along, this part of him reserved for him and him only.  

Stephen jolted from his calm state, eyes wide. “Shit, we didn’t tell Zelma what we were up to. She’s going to be so confused when we come back.”

Wong huffed. “I very much doubt that, she already knew about our... relationship.”

“You told her?”

“No, she just knows you and I better than we think. She is a smart girl. Besides, she will be too preoccupied reorganizing books and helping me rewrite important texts to worry about what we are up to.”

“We really have to start paying her soon.”

Wong didn’t respond at that, but he could feel him smiling. Any money they had was managed by him, anyway, Stephen wasn’t interested in spending it, especially now that he couldn’t eat actual food. He’ll let Wong decide what they’ll do with their faithful helper, he was practically her teacher.

Stephen moved up until they were face to face, kissing him again. Up until Wong, he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the act, the only time he ever got to do so was in shameful flings, guilty one-night stands with women and beings he couldn’t even remember anymore.

He felt no guilt nor shame in this. If anything, he felt proud.

“Wong, I--” 

He couldn’t say those three words just yet. They just weren’t true, not even after tonight. He couldn’t lie to his husband -- his best friend - anymore. Stephen had always been cruel, he knew that not even the strongest sort of enlightenment could change who he was before. But he couldn’t be cruel to  _ him _ .

He wanted to love, he’d always been hungry for it. Maybe they both were. He just expected love to come back to him like a supernova. Like another car crash. But it was pooling in his chest, ever so slowly, and there were no spells on earth to make it go faster. He would just have to accept it as it came until it consumed him. He could feel it get into his skin at moments like these.

Wong stared at him with bated breath. His mouth closed by itself, no words would come out.

“Don’t try to force yourself. It’s all right.”

Stephen gritted his teeth. “It feels wrong not to, especially tonight of all nights.”

“Say it when the time is right, or never say it at all. Just, please, do not tease me with the possibility of it.” Wong rested a hand on his chest. The man didn’t do magic often, but he used it to make the candles surrounding him die down, until the only thing that illuminated the room was the crackling fireplace behind them. “You can say it whenever you like, but when you mean it.”

They closed their eyes almost simultaneously, suddenly exhausted. Turned out talking about these sort of things tired them more than sex.

Wong fell asleep before him. They had shifted over time, and now the man’s head was resting on his arm, his ringed hand on his chest. He seemed to like his hair, and his scars. 

Stephen didn’t sleep, he wondered if he would even do so tonight. Now that magic was back, there was no doubt that  _ something _ would try to get into his dreams and toy with him. And tonight, of all nights, was no place for those sorts of feelings. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of Wong’s head, making sure he was fast asleep. He chanted a soft spell just in case, not taking any changes. It should only work for a few hours, but it was enough to give time for Stephen to do this.

He gulped and tried to speak again. 

“I love you.”

There was no response, no movement or shift from Wong that could mean that he heard. He sighed deeply, the words felt new. They weren’t, he’d said it before, but it had been so long. He truly felt as if he had forgotten about them.

He could get used to it.

Stephen closed his eyes and tried to rest. The sun would come up tomorrow and he would try again.


End file.
